


A Different War

by Gothiiknight



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Multi, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-08
Updated: 2015-08-08
Packaged: 2018-04-13 16:22:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4528830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gothiiknight/pseuds/Gothiiknight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Snippets through the life of Angeal Hewley as he becomes himself in a very different war than the one that was fought with Sephiroth as a general, in a world where SOLDIER is lead by Zack Fair and Cloud Strife as the three experiments grow into their own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Limitlxss](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Limitlxss/gifts).



Angeal Hewley, SOLDIER Second Class, one of the five youngest to reach the rank before his twenties - had no idea why he’d been assigned to Commander Strife’s personal unit. Even at his age, the raven haired warrior was large, and the Golden Scourge’s squad were renowned for moving quickly. Striking and disappearing. That sort of mobility, behind enemy lines, meant chocobo. Everyone knew that.

Just like they knew that chocobo just didn’t last that long under Angeal. He was big, and enhancements made him dense. Chocobo might be tough, and strong, but they weren’t that strong. So the young SOlDIER found himself waiting outside the stables, at the Commander’s handwritten orders, stiff backed, nervous, and not exactly sure what to expect.

Whatever he might have been able to imagine, what he saw certainly didn’t fit. The Commander was half a foot shorter than him, shorter than he’d expected even with that famous head of hair, but that wasn’t what was remarkable. The remarkable thing would have to be the titanic sized bird being lead carefully by the reins, black feathered, with a beak that looked like it could peck through a man’s skull with relative ease. As it ambled to a stop, the creature glared down at him malevolently, mako glinting in its eyes.

Blinking in confusion, he lowered his gaze to his superior, who was staring at him; face blank except for a slight smile tugging at one corner of the man's perfectly shaped lips. The expression reminded Angeal, strangely, of Genesis. Even if the two looked quite different, well. Different besides the fact that both of them were distractingly attractive.

“You know, SOLDIER, I didn’t intend for you to wait at attention. Just to meet me here,” the blond said in a quiet, thickly accented, voice. His gaze was intent, unnervingly so, and it made Angeal want to squirm as Cloud shook his head ruefully. “Zack’s always telling I’m too cryptic with orders, blames it on all the long deployments. I think it’s probably just the language. There’s too many gears in Midgar, not enough soul. At ease.”

The order was delivered casually at the end of the sentence, but there was no doubt as to the shorter man’s authority. The words sang with it. Angeal let his shoulders relax, his posture lapse, though he kept his hands folded behind him. What would he do with them, if they weren’t there? This was Cloud Strife. The Golden Scourge. The Nibel Sword. One of the two most powerful and skilled warriors on the Planet.

They stared at each other in almost companionable silence, before Angeal realized he should say something. The large teen’s cheeks flushed a brilliant red. “I, um- Midgaran is a bit stiff, Sir. My friend tells me it’s interesting, technically, but he’s something of a linguist, and a poet. He was just assigned to General Fair, actually, he’s been working with the materia corps, but they mentioned something about giving him translator training, and-” his blush deepened further, impossibly, and he trailed off as he saw the blond’s smile grow progressively as he rambled. Clearing his throat, he cut himself short, attempting to reign in his own, rolling, Banoran accent. “I- May I assume the bird is for me, Sir? I hadn’t heard of any enhanced-chocobo before. Will he be okay?”

The Commander’s expression turned considering as he listened to Angeal, but that smile didn't fade. The younger man wasn’t sure what to think about that.

“You’re right. Only three of them, mine, yours, and the one for your Silver friend. He’ll be riding with us sometimes. The company wants him trained with Zack and I both. Your other friend, the hero, will mostly be with the General. From what I heard, you’d benefit most with me,” Cloud said, in that same gentle-but-gruff tone. “The mako birds aren't friendly, but will learn. Yours is named Slephnir. It is a good name.”

Angeal, to his credit, kept a straight face as he realized the implication. He was going to be mentored? Mentored by this man? (For Gaia’s sake he had a poster of this man up on his wall! Just one amidst a series of gardening calendars, cheaply bought landscapes, and snippets of Gen’s poetry, but still.) 

“So, Angeal, ” When Cloud said it it was Ahn-Geel, “Are you ready to ride?”


	2. Two

Six months later Angeal found himself striding towards a Wutaian fort ahead of Sephiroth and the Commander. It felt actually strange to be walking, instead of riding. They’d been mounted for three weeks almost non stop. The rest of their small group were in the trees, long rifles ready, swords stuck in the trunks to be drawn when needed. If needed.

Three SOLDIERs to storm a fortress.

“We could still offer truce, Sir, they know your reputation, our reputation, ” Sephiroth murmured, in a voice that was more like a respectful breath. No chance that anybody but the three of them could hear. Angeal was impressed. His friend had gotten more eloquent after his time with Fair.

“I’ve already agreed to accepting quarter, Sephiroth. Which will delay our return home. Your concern for life is admirable,” Cloud answered him, his tone final, but holding no trace of reprimand. Angeal had only rarely heard the blond reprimand anyone. “Angeal. Bring it down.”

He could feel Seph’s gaze on him, but the raven just barely managed to suppress a smile. He was getting better at it the longer he spent with the Commander. The last time his friend had seen him he’d been near useless with materia. And bringing down a wall was a command for materia, or the silver’s own sword.

But that had been half a year ago. Angeal remembered the first time Cloud had woken him from a dead sleep to learn materia. “You are unbalanced. You will train to correct this. You will practice materia and fists. Materia and sword. Materia and nothing. You will practice till your mind bleeds. You will make it strength. Discipline for your mind as you do that body of yours, that honor. All three together. Honor. Strength. Wisdom,” it’d been a long speech from his mentor. A very long speech. And it’d only cemented the transition in Angeal’s mind from hero worship to genuine admiration and respect.

Those feelings had only increased as Cloud took the time to explore what would work for the raven’s personality with a patience that marveled on magical itself. But it’d shown success. A great deal of success, even. Angeal would never have a hand for fine magics, never work truly intricate craft, though with the Nibel’s instructions he was learning many tricks; developing some others that worked for him. But they’d both earned, after a while, that he’d been trying for things too small. Angeal worked best when he went big.

Closing his eyes, he started a low hum deep in his chest, a rumble that helped him focus. Holding the Buster out as he continued walking, blade flat, he ignored the sudden shouts that sounded out as they were noticed. He trusted the Commander’s blades to protect him. And they did. He could hear the rain-drop staccato of bullets on steel as he leveled a massive Gravity towards the wall, smiling roughly at the strain of holding it in his mind as he heard wood and stone groaning. Continuing to hum, sweat beading on his brow, he fitted his will into the next materia in his sword- releasing a massive, booming, shout as he flung the magic out of him hard enough that he stumbled. Dropped onto a knee, suddenly covered in sweat, tired enough to happily fall asleep right there.

And with a single Quake he leveled half of the fort. Drawing short, ragged breaths as the walls tumbled down in noise and dust, the earth rocked and bucked violently. Bellowed Wutaian orders informed the SOLDIERs of just how quickly their enemy fell into panic as the walls came down.

“Shiva,” cursed Sephiroth, in an awed monotone.

Cloud laughed. “Indeed. In her name,” Angeal’s flushed red as he felt his mentor’s hand grasp his shoulder. “You should see his swordsmanship. Its improved even more. But not yet- two minutes Geal. They’ll be reforming by then, we could use your bulk. For now, Sephiroth, advance.”

Angeal watched the two SOLDIER’s blur ahead of him like a matched set, Silver and Gold, and felt nothing but admiration for them. Well admiration, and something else. Both of them were quiet, but they always spoke with weight. They moved elegantly, but not just for the sake of elegance. And though the raven didn’t like death, or killing, when he could avoid it - both of them dealt a beautiful sort of violence.


	3. Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is from Cloud's point of view.

“We do not require this level of basic training, Commander,” Sephiroth observed in a blandly assertive tone. Cloud watched him, face impassive as a brief flicker of frustration flitted through his mind. He did not respond initially, he just stared back. Without any challenge in his eyes just an empty gaze sliding off the younger man. Watching Angeal too who seemed apprehensive, but not entirely in disagreement. Angeal had come far, he'd improved greatly, but he was young too, wanted to race ahead. Charge ahead. A lesson then.

Sephiroth was used to getting his way with most. The blond imagined he didn't even realize he was doing. From what he knew of the other’s background, he probably developed the habit out of sheer necessity; surviving as he could in a too tightly controlled environment. But that would get him killed or isolate him, no matter how much potential he showed. No matter how much tact he learned with Zack. No, he’d need to learn how to be strong in himself first, not strong over others. Regardless of what bad examples he might have.

After three minutes of silence, letting his hands rest on the pommels of the swords at his waist, Cloud bowed his head carefully in a nod. "Either of you strike me, then. Strike me, and I will desist with-“ his lips curled up, meeting the other's feline gaze. ”-the basics.

It was the one who’d been with him longest that acted first of course. Angeal knew him better, dirt flew away from the pair as he launched himself forward without hesitation, relying on Sephiroth to cover him. Too trusting. The silver’s eyes narrowed, reacting a second after he should have and compensating with too much speed. Slicing out with an arc of masamune’s energy that Cloud only had to tilt his head to avoid.

The city boy was a quick thinker, though, already leaping up, ridiculous blade poised to pierce as he came down. Uncoordinated, both of them. They’d get better. Casually, the commander rolled forward, bracing in a crouch and slamming his shoulder into one of the raven’s knees. Thrusting up, he flipped the larger man’s bulk, bringing the flat of one blade down on Angeal’s exposed forehead as he launched himself up.

Sephiroth’s blow was now aimed at his friend, his largest vulnerability the space directly beneath him. Cloud soared into him as he struggled to adjust, overcompensating as the blond flew true, hilt of the blade that’d concussed the raven slamming into his solar plexus, the other coming down on the back of his head and guiding the silver’s face into the ground with a thud. He heard a nose snap, possibly a broken jaw, and nodded serenely as he sheathed his blades. 

Squatting between the two groaning figures, he cleared his throat. "You have not been pushed as I will push you. I am not testing you, not wasting your time, not trying to make you bend. I have my strength, you will earn yours. And be treated as any other SOLDIERs showing promise, for a city boy, at least, and you-” he frowned at Angeal. “Do not rely on other’s assistance without obtaining it first. Next time, do not be so eager. You try to drown out your natural tendency to wait. It is not a weakness, when you can, take the time. But good form, if you'd thrown a quake at me I wouldn’t have had the balance to throw you. ”

With that he walked away, rubbing his shoulder once he was out of sight and hearing. Shiva though! The kid was made of solid brick.


	4. Four

Angeal hadn’t complained about the training, the grueling hours, when it’d been him alone. Eight hours mounted a day, another hour sparring and learning balance on Slephnir, another two on materia and swordwork. Then all the routine tasks of eating, setting camp, foraging, Cloud didn’t exempt himself from those either so it was only reasonable. But with Sephiroth’s arrival, and on learning how much more freeform Gen’s training was with Fair, it started to grate on him.

The training session where they’d both been beaten down so thoroughly put a stop to that questioning niggling at his mind, it even lead to an end of Sephiroth’s just shy of sniping observations as the silver watched their blond Commander with real respect. But the workload still weighed on him, he didn’t object to being pushed on principle. But he was still young, he wanted to learn more, not just harder - even when his ability with materia grew exponentially under Cloud’s tutelage.

He started noticing things however, as he let himself grumble in the corners of his mind. When they sparred, he noticed a slight shimmer come over the blond’s body. A status effect of some sort, though he wasn’t sure which one, and the nibelheimer didn’t show any discomfort. Maybe something to slow him? Except he still moved so damnably quick. Next was when Angeal noticed the barrier around their squad. A barrier continuously, exhaustively, renewed. And the ether clutched warily on his mentor’s belt. The hard eyed Nibelheimer who pushed himself twice as far as he pushed those in his charge.

None of that compared to the skirmish on the cliffs of the Kraken Shore, the first and one of the only times he saw Cloud let loose. That he saw the Golden Scourge, instead of his stern but often kind mentor.

Angeal wasn’t supposed to see, but the situation at the top of the cliffs was shifting. Sephiroth and the other mounted soldiers were driving the enemy to the edge, harrying them, where the large raven could crush them individually. It so happened however that Cloud had ridden down to the beach pursuing those he’d seen fleeing towards a ship approaching on the horizon. From his position Angeal caught glimpses. Glimpses of maybe fifty enemy combatants, enough that the raven haired SOLDIER considered jumping down the cliffside. Or collapsing it with a quake. But the blond below did not seem so perturbed.

Instead, Commander Strife leaped from his chocobo’s back, deflecting bullets with one of his blades almost lazily as he strode forward, breathing out a barrier that swallowed thrown firas, bolts, and ice spells as if they were cast by novices. And then, prompted by a Wutaian in a materia officer’s silk garb holding aloft a red orb, the sky clouded, the sea swelled, swallowing up all sound in the wake of summoned Kraken.

As it emerged, thousand tentacled, with a beak like a chocobo’s atop a maw the size of a house, Cloud knelt. Undoing the heavy cape he usually wore, his hands moved in a blur, slamming the hilts of both swords into materia seated behind his back. With what looked between a shout and a prayer, gold and black energies crackled over the length of his blades. A chill ran down Angeal’s spine as the man below began to move.

All SOLDIER’s were sensitive to certain things, they could feel the presence of summons. And there was more than one down there. Wutai’s god, yes. And one of Nibelheim’s too. Odin rode in Cloud Strife’s hand.

Angeal only caught brief shadows of the rest, as he dealt with his own piece by piece combats. His mentor ignored the summon as its mighty limbs impacted on the sand, leaping from them like they were landing platforms as he dashed forward. And people began to die.

The barrier Cloud had cast compacted around him, turning his skin strange tints of blue with the flash of lightning and cold. Especially around the tattoos that his student had never thought to notice till now. His eyes burned, more gold than mako green, matching his sword.

It took one cut each, with a summon bound to the sword. One cut delivered death. It came for each differently. Some exploded, some petrified, some withered, some burned with mako flames, golden lightning stole others. It took minutes for the Golden Scourge to disassemble them all, ending on his knees once more, the summoner chopped in half, weapons sheathed. A new materia held in his hand.

Angeal nearly took a spear in the chest as he froze, mesmerized, watching his one day lover stare down the kraken respectfully, bow, and dismiss it. The offender found himself disarmed roughly, and that was how Sephiroth found him. Holding an enemy in an armlock and staring down at the sea, at the man who was arranging each of the bodies carefully to be sent to it. Into their god’s realm.


	5. Five

“Experiments,” Sephiroth spat out hollowly. And Angeal’s heart ached for him. 

War had not been easy on either of them. It sapped them of so much of themselves, especially Sephiroth. Angeal had always had Cloud there to support him the last few years. To provide him with words of iron and ice, to help him hold onto his honor, his dreams, amidst chaos. Even now he was looking to the blond for support, despite the news he’d just given them, ignoring the General clasping Gen’s shoulder. All he could do was look to his friend, his rock, as he informed them. Of their births. Their origins. The silver continued on though. “We’re not skilled, not exceptional. Not heroes. Just mons-”

Cloud moved in a blur, a slap that the silver caught in one impossibly quick movement. A half-wild sneer started to form on Sephiroth’s lips, but faded to a pained gasp as he doubled over, the Commander’s knee in his stomach.

“Is Angeal a monster? Is Genesis?” the older man growled. “Your friends? Be careful, Sephiroth, for I will fight you if you insult them so. If you insult yourself. Stronger than me, faster than me, capable of things even Zack and I can only dream of, but I will beat you. At least for another year or so. Until all three of you pass us by-” his tone turned more gentle. “I admire you, all of you. Do not insult yourselves. You were given great potential, but you chose to pursuit it. To shape it. They tried to make you a weapon, Sephiroth, this company we serve. But who in the world is better with materia healing? With medicine, even. Your strategies, too, helped save Wutaian lives. Their country would be in ashes, but they still have their culture, their capital, most of their government. In no small part thanks to the efforts of yourself and Genesis. And if you call Angeal a monster then-”

The raven felt the heat in Cloud’s words, but didn’t quite understand it. Even as he watched Genesis and Fair blink. “He’s half paupered himself, starting relief organizations, using your fan clubs, working with people that hated him because he believed it was right. Call him a monster, call yourself a monster, Seph, and I will kill you.”

That tone filled the tent with tension, a storm front wavering, ready to burst or pass over the horizon, and Angeal wasn’t sure if anybody else heard the depth of pain in Cloud’s voice, the rawness behind it. He wanted to hold the slighter man, wanted to hold both of them.

The blond gently touched Sephiroth’s shoulder, squeezing it, wrapping one arm around the silver’s back as he leaned in, trembling like a leaf. To Angeal’s eyes he looking terribly frail, terribly young. “Its going to be okay. All of it is going to be okay. We will make it so.”

A few moments later the raven found himself on his feet, his own large arms pulling both men close to his chest. He didn’t realize how badly he was shaking. The three of the stood their for long minutes, just breathing.

And then Genesis and Zack Fair opened their mouths at the same time.


	6. Six

“I requested a transfer, to General Fair’s command, to go with my new promotion, Sir,” Angeal told the other man quietly, formally, struggling to control the butterflies twisting in his stomach. “I know it leaves you a little shorthanded, with Seph pursuing his medical degree. Not that it’ll take him long. But I know there’s at least a few that could be groomed as your seconds, that deserve the chance.”

He didn’t miss the instantaneous tension that knotted through the older man’s body. He rarely missed anything about Cloud anymore.

“Why?” the blond asked, voice clipped.

“Because you’re always telling me to be bold, and I can’t do this if you’re my commanding officer,” Angeal whispered, swallowing hard as he leaned down to kiss the other man. He didn’t quite moan at the taste of Cloud's lips, they were even softer than they’d looked years ago. His hand touched the other man’s waist gently, tension easing out of him as the kiss was returned. “Fuck Sephiroth is gonna be mad I started without him. He- we both, want you, Cloud.”

The shorter man stared at him for a moment, considering, weighing- and then Angeal felt a hand gripping in his hair as Cloud pressed him back forcefully into the wall; half climbing him to achieve it. He growled. “About damned time. You two have been up to something for months,” the raven gasped sharply as teeth found his neck. “And don’t think you’ll be let off easy for making me wait. I've been eager to taste you since I realized you both returned my feelings. You’ll make it up to me,” the blond smirked as he kissed the taller man lustfully, claimingly. Angeal couldn’t keep himself from beaming. “You can start by not dropping that Sir quite yet. ”

His smile grew wider, this time most definitely accompanied by a moan. He'd never heard Cloud issue a command quite so playfully before; voice made husky, exaggerating that raspy and rollicking accent of his with arousal.

“But who knows, by the end of the night, my Angel, I might be calling _you_ Sir. ”


	7. Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And here's an explicit little snippet of pure smut.

Cloud Strife smirked at the men he’d been teasing relentlessly for half the day, lazily stroking his thick cock as he watched them glare with predatory intensity. It was far too rare the three of them were together anymore. He stretched, showing his muscled, scarred, and tattooed, body for the two sets of shining eyes that’d been watching him hours as he stroked, sucked, teased, and tormented them mercilessly. But he hadn’t granted them release. Their patience was growing thin with him. So.

“Wrestle it out, I want to watch you struggle to fuck each other. Winner gets me, gets to show me what a bad man I’ve been teasing you both. Unless you think you two can take me?” he started speaking lazily, but ended in a low growl, despite keeping his body relaxed as he stroked himself.

He started considering whether he should pounce first, as they glared at him, before suddenly Angeal and Seph were moving in a blur. The silver pounced his boyfriend, and soon they were twisting around each other. Here in Geal’s place, with the massive bed, the big fur rug he’d bought for his older lover, and reinforced everything, they didn’t have to worry. They could unleash and Cloud could enjoy them, every stuttered breath, every flexing of muscle, every sound as they rubbed against each other. Slicking each other’s lengths, fingering, groaning roughly.

Sephiroth’s hair draped over Angeal’s broad chest looked delicious, and Cloud’s breath caught as the silver moved with sinuous, powerful grace, teasing, mastering. And then the larger man was flipping him, pinning him, pressing long legs over his shoulders, muscles flaring to keep the man beneath him still as he arched his hips forward. Fucking. Impaling his lover. Both of them moaned roughly, straining against each other before they began moving in consort.

“Come over Cloud. His cock is lonely. I want you on it. _Now._ We’re taking turns with you old wolf, going to make you howl,” Angeal commanded, his voice low, rough, and wavering as Sephiroth began to thrust back onto the thick member that filled him; flooding the air with demanding grunts and moans.


End file.
